Karma Killer
by Tari Roo
Summary: Complete story: AU. Bad karma or good karma, sometimes Fate conspires against you. But then Fate hadn't quite reckoned on Vin Tanner. Reviews would be delightful.
1. Chapter 1

Karma Killer

Characters: Vin, Chris

Type: Gen

Rating: PG13

Authors note: This story is set in an AU that is purposely vague about current events. This is not the USA today, nor even tomorrow. It is simply a stage for the events of the story. It's a little existential and may not be everyone's cup of tea, but I figured that with all the 'trouser leg of time' AUs in the M7-verse, why not. The title is taken from a Robbie Williams song.  
Feedback will be treated like the precioussss gold that it is and drooled over in the dark.

Karma Killer

Part One

Cold.

The word swirled around in the air mocking the weary traveller. Tiny pieces of ice danced in the furious gusts of snow, encircling the man, joining the freezing wind in sucking as much warmth as possible from the shivering frame.

Cold.

Booted feet, poorly protected against drifts of piled snow, staggered through the snow-covered path, the insidious tendrils of frostbite already attacking aching toes. His worn leather jacket was pierced by malicious drafts, driving an icy layer between skin and material. A woollen scarf barely kept desperately needed warm air within his labouring chest, blood-warmed exhalations disappearing into the wild snow dance. Fingers thrust in armpits, dying for warmth, clenching spasmodically as feeling returned to the frigid digits.

Cold.

With his eyes narrowed against the wind, cheeks drawn and tight in the biting air, lips cracked and bloody, the stranger continued his directionless journey. No goal in mind. No destination ahead. It was simply the process of finding somewhere to stop – for a while at least.

Cold.

The word mocked him. Oh, how he had once longed to feel the icy bite of snow. How he had yearned to see the glistening fall of frozen water, a thought that kept him sane in a land of heat, dehydration and death. The sensation of sweat covered sunburnt skin seemed so far away in this white world. The only real thought in his half-frozen mind was, 'move.' Keep on moving, take another step, move.

Death.

One booted foot followed the other, relentlessly ploughing forward, no pause, no stop. Muscles aching, chest screaming to breath, eyes fixed on each unseen foot, blinding snow obscuring the sight of what he knew to be true. He was moving – not quitting. Still alive.

Death.

It hovered, just out of sight. A point of blackness in a swirling scene of white. Waiting. Watching. Patient. Look directly at it, and nothing would be there. Return to the path ahead and the spectre would again rise in the corner of your eye. Waiting. Adding its own chill to the already frigid air.

_Soon._

'Not yet, old friend. Not yet.'

The rickety woodshed was warm. The shattered remains of a table and chair burned sullenly, reluctantly fending off the cold for the wretched figure hunching over the blaze. Slowly frozen limbs felt blood flowing through their icy extremities, the sensation of warmth chasing away the prospect of frost bite.

Forgotten rags and old sacks covered a shivering frame, gradually insulating the stranger's body. Boots were reinforced with oily rags, plugging cracks and holes. His left hand was wrapped securely in an old sleeve, in a desperate attempt to save it from the ravages of frostbite.

Slitted eyes watched the flames, lost in distant visions of other fires. The heat thawed out frozen tendrils of hair, tied back into a dirty ponytail. Dehydrated lips slowly sucked a stolen icicle. The unexpected warmth raised a distinct flush to chilled cheeks, ears and head still covered by a low battered hat.

Outside the storm raged, furious to loose its victim. Snakelike drafts pierced the shed, trying to breach it's fortress of warmth. Both the determination to survive and the presence of the fire beat back their attacks. Two pieces of beef jerky waited near the blaze, thawing out until chewable.

The stranger waited, waited for the storm to pass and for the winter sun to rise. And while he waited, his soul walked. Walked in distant lands, where the sun beat down on unprotected heads. Sand crunched beneath booted feet, found its way into unreachable cracks, itching and irritating. Each mouthful of food had the same dusty taste and crunch, each mouthful of water metallically tepid. Sweat ran, tempers flared and blood ran dark red against the white sands.

And as the stranger's soul walked, Death watched from a dark corner in the shed. Even the fire felt it presence, its promise of water and sand, of ending and the reluctant blaze did not extend it's light into that distant corner. The thwarted cold avoided the dark form, shying away from its whispers of heat and summer.

Light and Dark. One walked and the other waited.

Words again swirled around the walking figure. Weak sunlight barely pierced the grey clouds. Distant mountains and snow lay behind the stranger and open, white fields of farms and ranches stretched ahead.

The road beneath his feet was dry and rock hard, the dirt too frozen to stir beneath his footsteps. Dry, pale white grass lay alongside the road, uniform dark fences edged the lonely road. Leafless trees stretched aching branches towards the sky, their stark forms sending pleas for aid to the merciless heavens. Dead fields lay fallow, clumps of dirty snow trodden under by listless, bony cattle who hunched together in herds of despondency.

Grey clouds hung close to the earth, creating an ominous roof, cutting off the promise of spring and hinting at harder times instead. Bleak landscapes passed by, shuttered farm houses and empty animal stalls, no warmth or life present. Death's shadow did not hover behind the lone figure this time. Instead it soared over the land, revelling in the sights below. Leaving the stranger to its words, the spectre loomed over field and barn, searching for more misery.

'Stupid piece of filth.'

The blows had come as a surprise, but the words had not. Helping hands tossed him to yet another rude unwelcoming. Such hate and anger he understood, but the contempt and vicious mouthings he did not.

Putting one foot ahead of the other, the stranger nursed yet another bruise, yet another payment for the price of shelter. They never attacked for long, never followed him to add to their words. Once they saw his eyes or his dog tags they would invariably hiss or spit and turn away as if he had some sort of disease.

'Murdering son of a …'

'Should never have come back … stayed with them murdering rag heads!'

'Good for nothing killer!'

'Get the hell off my property!'

Betraying clinks of metal swung free of vest and shirt. There was no glint off the dulled metal, no soft rasp of rubber and chain. It was the only proof that he had of a past life and it hung like a condemnation for a present future. Taking them off was never considered, it would be like cutting off a couple of fingers, the small metal tags were part of him … always would be. One slice of metal bore more than etches of information. A ragged bullet hole drilled through the words, making them void. Irrelevant. The single complete tag was all that remained of an even more distant life, one buried in the sand and blood, forgotten by all who mattered.

Alone on that dirt road, the stranger trudged forward – to somewhere. It didn't matter where, just somewhere else.

Still unconsciously hearing the curses, remembering the fists and kicks directed at him, the unexpected sound of an audible curse brought up his wary head.

"Shit!"

A flash of gold caught his eye in the sombre grey landscape. A few feet ahead, a man was struggling with a fence post. A small tree had fallen on the fence and while its weight was insufficient to break the sturdy post, the pressure had warped one fence rail. The farmer was trying to lift the tree using a long pole as lever but a stray branch was caught under the warped rail. And try as the man might, he couldn't seem to reach far enough under the tree to free the branch, nor lift it off the rail.

Another frustrated curse cut through the late morning air. "Damnit!'

As the stranger drew near, he again caught a flash of gold, the farmer's blond hair glinting in the weak sunlight. The unexpected colour chased the words away, and the traveller approached the struggling man cautiously. The farmer was so caught up in his task, he didn't notice the stranger's arrival. The drifter was about to ask if the farmer needed a hand, when an ominous crack split the air.

"Shit!" The pole wedged under the tree broke and the farmer, who was laying under the massive trunk trying to free the branch, cursed as he saw the tree slowly give in to gravity and fall on top of him. Brittle, dead branches raced towards the farmer's exposed upper torso. He flung up his arms to protect his face and chest, expecting to feel the tree plough into him any second now. Moments before the tree branches could even touch his face another thin pole was thrust under the tree, and stopped the fall.

Blinking his eyes, it took a moment for the fair-haired rancher to realise that he had been saved. Looking up at his rescuer, he even more shocked to see a tattered drifter keeping the tree up.

"Ya mind moving – cain't hold this tree up fer ever."

The farmer scurried out from under the tree and the drifter let the tree fall back on the railing. Dusting himself off, scattering leaves and grass from off his clothes, he turned to thank the drifter. Instead of finding an expectant saviour, he was surprised to see his rescuer walking away down the road. Raising a hesitant hand, he called, "Thanks, Mister!"

A dirty hand was raised in response, but the stranger didn't turn around. For three precious heartbeats, the rancher watched the strange man walk away. A sudden cold chill raced across his chest and impulsively the rancher shouted, "Hey! Wait a minute."

The drifter stopped, an immediate tension tightening across his shoulders. Automatically he steeled himself to hear yet another insult, some comment or other. Impatiently he waited for the returning barb, believing in its inevitability so strongly that he barely recognised the words shouted at him.

"I could use a hand here. You want a day's work?"

The young stranger was so shocked he stood stock still, unable to form a reply. Slowly, the incredulous drifter turned and stared at the rancher, whose gold hair seemed even brighter in the growing light of the morning.

The drifter's silence was a bit unnerving, but the rancher persisted, reluctant to let the stranger walk away without trying to offer something more than words. "There's a meal and a bed for you if you want."

The distance between him and the rancher seemed cavernous. It felt like it would take a titanic effort to cross the line that separated him from the world the rancher lived and breathed. Already steeling himself for the hurt and pain, the drifter was half-tempted to hurl the offer back, refuse any charity but his determined feet suddenly moved him forward instead of back. An involuntary step towards an offered hope. His decision made, an instinct taking over prudence, the drifter shrugged and said, "Sure. I'm up fer it."

The quiet words echoed loudly in the silent air, the dead, gray world completely surprised that its apparent thrall was over. Above the stranger, the spectre of death halted its flight of triumph and hovered over the pair - uncertain.

"Lift."

The combined efforts of the two men lifted the small tree and using the poles the two men tipped the tree to roll on to the ground. Landing with a muffled thump, the tree sank into the wet grass.

Panting from the exertion, the rancher wiped away a sheen of sweat and sneaked a quick glance at his companion. Once the drifter had shed his threadbare leather coat and scarf, the well-worn shirt underneath bore testament to the hard winter. But the man worked willingly and tirelessly. Despite his scrawny stature and apparent poor condition, he was still strong and capable of hard work.

As the hours passed swiftly, the pair worked side by side fixing the fence. They removed the warped railing and replaced it, only to find another damaged one further along the fence. They fixed a few fallen posts and as the drifter held the last railing in place while the rancher hammered in the last nail, a beautiful sunset lit the winter sky.

Fiery reds raced across the cloudy heavens, painting the gloomy clouds a blushing pink. Oranges and yellows huddled in clusters behind black clouds, shining luminous halos around the winter clouds. The depressing gray of the day vanished into an awe-inspiring tableau of colours.

Both men watched the sun set, marvelling in the beauty, each for different reasons. As the clouds began to reclaim their sombre winter hue, the rancher tossed a hammer in one hand and briefly touched his companion. "Time to head in. Mariah will be waiting for us."

Strangely reluctant to leave the wondrous view, the stranger felt a panic rise in his stomach. For a while he had deluded himself that perhaps this farmer lived alone, had no one else. But the prospect of meeting a wife and possibly a family, terrified him.

The blond rancher walked towards the softly light ranch house and eventually noticed that his temporary hand was still standing in the fading sunlight. "Come on Tanner. Mariah won't want us to be late."

Biting back the panic, the stranger turned and quietly said, "Coming Mr Larabee." He reached the rancher and flinched as the farmer touched him again. "I told you, call me Chris. The only Mr Larabee I know is my father."

Two lean figures strode towards the darkening night and the ranch house before them. The old fear was left behind, glaring at the receding figures from the dirt road. The drifter was facing a different fear tonight, one that Death held no part in.

The interior of the house was blessedly warm after the cold evening air. Larabee dropped his gloves and coat on the hooks available and strode into the kitchen beyond. Tanner hesitated to place his own worn coat bedside Larabee's. He would prefer to keep it on him, it made it easier to leave quickly. Hefting his battered satchel, Tanner put his sole possession near the kitchen door and then paused before entering.

The kitchen was even warmer than the previous room, a fire burning in an old fashioned hearth. A tall black-haired woman was greeting Larabee with a kiss while a young girl also with dark hair sat at the table chopping beans. Her tiny, sure hands stopped their chopping motions as she noticed Tanner standing in the doorway. Her blue eyes widened and her little pink mouth formed a perfect 'O'. The child's stillness was enough to drag her mother from the embrace of her husband to also stare at Tanner.

Before Vin could feel even a moment of nervousness, Mariah Larabee thumped her husband on the chest with an oven glove. "Warn me before bringing guests, Chris! You know I don't like surprises."

"Liar, you love 'em."

"Who? Guests or surprises?"

Brushing past her chuckling husband, Mariah swept Tanner into the kitchen and seated him across from the now smiling little girl. "Sarah, those beans are not chopping themselves." Still grinning and studying their guest, Sarah Larabee started chopping again.

Before Tanner knew it, a cup of coffee was thrust into his numb hands and a steaming roll placed in front of him. "Hey, where's mine? Don't I get a pre-dinner roll?"

Slapping away her husband's hand from stealing a roll of his own, Mariah placed a hot cup of coffee in his hands instead. "You aren't as skinny as our guest. So just sit down and introduce us."

Quickly placing the hot cup down, Chris grinned and sat in a chair near the fire. "Mariah, this is Vin Tanner. Vin, this is my wife Mariah and that little imp over there is Sarah. Vin helped me fix the fence today."

"And probably saved your fool neck as well, I bet! Trying to move that tree without some help," she tsked, "I told you I'd lend a hand tomorrow."

Stealing a bean from his daughter, Chris smiled and winked at her, "Well, Tanner arrived to help and it's all done."

"All of it?" Mariah asked as she stirred a pot on the stove.

"Yep."

"Good. Now drink up and then head upstairs and wash up for dinner."

Gulping down the last of his coffee, Chris nodded and was about to ask Tanner to follow him when he noticed that Tanner was still holding the full cup of coffee, his roll uneaten. Grabbing the roll, Larabee pulled Tanner to his feet and escorted the numb man from the room, a parting gasp from Sarah alerting Mariah to the thievery.

"Christopher Larabee! That means one less roll for you, bucko!"

Larabee took Tanner through some twisting passages until the pair reached a guest room. The décor was homey and warm, thick drapes hiding a wide window. Another fire burned in the hearth and Larabee showed his guest where the bathroom was situated.

"Wash up and be back in the kitchen in five minutes. Mariah will have dinner waiting. There are some clothes in the drawers if you want to put on a clean shirt. See ya in a few."

Bemused, Vin Tanner sat down on the soft bed and tried to sort through the myriad thoughts dancing through his head. Snorting at himself, he locked up the sensations and emotions and shucked off his old shirt and washed up, revelling in the feel of clean, hot water. Ignoring the scars, bruises and ribs clearly showing in the bright bathroom light, Tanner pulled on a clean shirt.

Studying his hair and face, he pulled a comb through his tangled hair, grimacing at the pull of knots. Tying his hair back, Tanner used the razor to shave, reckoning that Mariah would prefer a completely clean guest, even if he was a bit late.

The shirt was a little big, and the shave only seemed to make his face look more gaunt. Refusing to look at his reflection for long, Tanner switched the light off and made his way down the passage. His good sense of direction lead him back to the kitchen, despite the warren of rooms and passages.

As it turned out, Vin wasn't late at all, as he nearly ran into three blond clones. A pair of twin boys, lanky in their pre-adolescence, were chatting animatedly with their father who was freshly washed and dressed. The blond trio arrived through a different door, leading from upstairs and Tanner found himself introduced to two identical faces, Gabriel and Michael. He was then ushered into the kitchen and seated next to a tiny boy with the biggest eyes Vin had ever seen.

Young Jack Daniel was all eyes. He had big brown eyes that not even a mop of black hair could hide. The little boy was four years old, he solemnly told Mr Tanner and Vin was stunned into immobility as a warm body climbed onto his lap and proceeded to tell him all about the time Mike and Gabe tried to ride Thunder.

A plethora of familiness surrounded the young drifter as Michael and Gabriel set the table, while Sarah and her mother placed bowls of food onto the big square table. Chris helped his wife lay the last dishes on the table and after the flurry of activity, the rest of the Larabee family sat down.

"Jack Daniel, get off Mr Tanner and take your seat please."

"Yes, Ma." The warm body climbed down and sat in the nearby chair. A cushion helped the small boy see over the table edge and soon silence fell over the room.

Chris cleared his throat and shot a quick look at Michael who was trying to steal a carrot. With everyone in line, Chris said, "We're glad to have Vin Tanner with us tonight. Means that we might have a quiet meal for once."

Chuckles from the children and Mariah brought a grin to Chris' face. "Now I think it's JD's turn to say grace."

A chorus of groans from the twins and Sarah barely caused their father a moments pause, "If JD remembers to keep it short and sweet. You can save blessing the farm animals for bed time prayers."

Jack Daniel, or rather JD, nodded seriously and closed his eyes. Tanner hesitantly closed his own but soon the prayer was over and Mariah began dishing up. The feast before the hungry young man was amazing. Bowls of steamed vegetables sat next to a mountain of mashed potatoes. Butter and rolls sat side-by-side, their tantalising aromas wafted through the kitchen. A large roasted chicken, browned to a crisp gold was being carved by Mariah, the flesh falling from the knife. Rich, savoury gravy coated the vegetables and potatoes, everything mingling into a mouth-watering tapestry of aromas. Some sort of cordial was poured into glasses and the meal progressed in a noisy symphony.

The twins vied for their father's attention, regaling him with an account of the day's events. Sarah chatted with her mother, her fork whisking through the air in excitement. Young Jack Daniel bent Vin Tanner's ear with serious conversation regarding the dangers of climbing apple trees.

"And then I nearly fell and broke my fool neck, or so Ma said and the twins got shouted at, and I got hugged and Daddy was shouted at for leaving the ladder out and Ma was shouting till I quit crying, I was only crying a little tho' cos' I am a big boy and …"

"Jack Daniel, you eat those peas now."

"Yes Ma."

JD turned to continue his conversation with Mr Tanner, his mouth full of peas only to find that the twins had stolen his captive audience. As Vin slowly ate the sumptuous meal, he listened to the boys tell him about their horses and school. Sarah occasionally added a few shy comments and even blushed when Vin winked at her.

Chris and Mariah, despite being at opposite ends of the table, talked away, discussing household affairs and errands to be run. So completely surrounded by warmth and companionship was the young stranger that his old, hole-ridden shoes were not given a single shameful thought. Nor the old pants, well-mended and patched. In fact, Tanner was so enthralled by the family scene that he found himself relaxing despite long learned habits.

Jack Daniel finally finished his meal and the dinner was declared over. A rapid exchange of plates, bowls and cutlery occurred as the twins fought Sarah for the task of loading the dishwasher. Chris leant over to Vin and said, "They always argue over who loads it, because then they don't have to unload it tomorrow. I don't understand it myself, but it seems important to them."

Once the argument was solved and Sarah sat down sullenly, Mariah brought out the rare treat of desert. Freshly baked apple pie, with rich whipped cream was handed out, Tanner receiving a generous portion. Careful to eat slowly in case his lean stomach rebelled against the abundance of food after so many months of eating too little, Tanner ate half of his piece. Although he could have easily wolfed the entire portion, prudence and experience stopped him. The rest of the Larabee's ate slowly as well, enjoying the treat.

The entire room and the feelings within his own heart, were so different from his previous night or rather a multitude of previous nights, brought on a feeling of surrealness, of dreaming. He hadn't been this warm or this full for a very long time – long before winter had started. Friendly chatter he did not participate in swirled around him. Smiles and laughter instead of shouts and fists where directed at him. Feeling cut off from the situation, a rising panic began anew. Survival instincts reacted to the growing uncertainty, the feeling of safety. Never one to relax, to let his guard down, Tanner felt his neck prickle in fear as the room seemed to shrink into a rising mass of heat and noise. Too much, too soon threatened to explode. Fighting a clamping chest, Tanner gripped his fork tightly, his knuckles white against the metal.

"Are you going to finish that, Mr Tanner?"

The soft voice shattered the mounting emotion and brought the startled young man back to the warm kitchen and friendly faces. One face in particular. A serious face, green faces watching him intently, concern evident. Locked into that gaze, Tanner unaccountably felt his anger grow until an insistent hand tugged his sleeve.

"Are you going to finish your pie, Mister?"

This time turning to the equally serious face of JD Larabee, Vin shook his head and felt the small warm body climb up onto his lap again and begin to eat the rest of his pie. "Thanks, Mister!" A crumb covered face smiled happily as JD packed away the desert.

"Sure kid."

The first words uttered by the shell shocked man were swept up into noisy atmosphere apparently unnoticed expect that a pair of concerned green eyes relaxed and went back to eating his own pie before one of the twins decided he too was finished and needed some help.

Even as the desert bowls were stacked, the comfortably full child on Tanner's lap placed a sticky hand on the drifter's thin face. Big brown eyes bored into icy blue ones and fearlessly the boy asked, "Would you tell me a story, Mister Tanner?"

Those trusting brown orbs, swimming with happiness from apple pie and the excitement of a guest melted the ice a little and those blue eyes crinkled as Vin smiled and huskily asked, "What kinda story Mr Larabee?"

Chortling at the title, JD patted the chest in front of him affectionately and squeaked, "A animal story!"

"An animal story? You who lives on a farm, want an animal story?"

The tussled black head nodded vigorously and a chorus of 'Yes' from the young boy's siblings added to the affirmation. Tanner was about to ask why they didn't just watch television or something, until Mariah's soft voice interrupted. "The tv is broken. Seems it doesn't take too kindly to baseball bats."

Two abashed faces hunkered into their pullovers as the twins blushed. Shrugging at having to sing for his supper, Tanner settled into his chair and stared at the expectant face before him. "An animal story, huh?"

Raising one hand to scratch at his chin thoughtfully, Tanner mused, "Y'all know the one about the three little pigs?"

"Yes!" shouted four voices.

"Ahhhh… the three bears?"

"YES!"

"Uhhhhm …. about Brer Rabbit and the Tar Baby?"

Silence greeted the suggestion and JD said solemnly, "Nope Mister, don't think we have." Chris and Mariah smiled at the expectant faces and also settled themselves to hear the story.

"Well, this is a story my Ma told me when I was a little fella. Now Brer Rabbit was a tricky critter. Critter means creature – just that in the old days people called 'em critters," Vin explained, pre-empting the question from JD. Satisfied JD leant back to listen to Tanner's soft drawl weave a tale of mischief and trickery.

"So Brer Rabbit punched that Tar Baby in the nose, shouting 'You best answer me Mister, else I'm gonna sock ya agin.' Brer Rabbit's sure was shocked when his paw stuck to the Tar Baby's nose. Shouting, he tried to pull himself free, but that tar sure is sticky stuff …"

"Like molasses?"

"Even worse. He was so mad he tried to punch the Tar Baby in the side of the head, but that paw got stuck too."

JD finally settled for leaning against the drifter's chest and listening the story that way, the words flowing down like his favourite molasses to his sleepy ears. The warm kitchen wrapped the family closely, keeping the rising cold outside. Vin's soft drawl was the only sound audible, only the fire adding the occasional 'pop' and 'snap' to the story.

"Brer Rabbit shouted at Brer Fox, 'Oh please don't throw me in the briar patch Brer Fox, please don't! You can boil me if you want, but please don't throw me in the briar patch.' "

The unexpected turn of events had JD and his siblings wide awake with concern for Brer Rabbit. "Is the briar patch 'real' bad, Mr Tanner?"

"JD, hush dear and just listen to the story."

Sighing in acceptance JD waited for the end. "Brer Fox pondered something fierce and thought, 'Maybe I'll toss Brer Rabbit down the well.' So he said to Brer Rabbit in his nastiest voice, 'I'm gonna toss ya down the well Brer Rabbit!' Brer Rabbit wailed even louder, 'Oh Brer Fox please toss me in the well. Just don't toss me into the briar patch!' Brer Fox began to get a sneaky idea."

"Is he gonna throw Brer Rabbit into the briar patch?"

"JD! Don't ruin the ending," Gabriel whined, his green eyes pleading.

"Sorry."

Jack Daniel got to his knees as the climax approached, his eyes wide and enthralled. An irritated Michael raised his head to see over JD, eager to hear the end.

"So Brer Fox picked Brer Rabbit up by his ears and tossed him into the briar patch. And he waited. And he waited … waited t'hear the yells and screams from Brer Rabbit. But there was nothing. Only silence. Brer Fox scratched his head in amazement – what had happened? Suddenly a terrific shout ripped through the air and Brer Rabbit's head popped up through the patch. 'Oh please don't throw me into the briar patch Brer Fox, please!' Brer Fox stared at Brer Rabbit who was eating a thistle as cool as you please. Finally it dawned on that stupid fox that Brer Rabbit was not in any pain at all. 'You tricked me Brer Rabbit! You tricked me.' Brer Rabbit just grinned and watched as Brer Fox yelped in pain as he tried to reach Brer Rabbit. But the sharp thorns kept him from reaching the slippery rabbit. Laughing at the shouting fox, Brer Rabbit disappeared back into the briar, looking for another thistle, for every clever creature knows that rabbits live in the briar patch."

Laughing and clapping his chubby hands JD shouted, "So he was fooling Brer Fox! He wanted to go in there all along."

"Yep."

Mariah stood and smiled a quick thank you at Vin. She began to shoo her children from the kitchen. "Go on now. Time for homework and bed. Upstairs." The three older children reluctantly left the kitchen, saying thank you to Vin as well. Sarah impulsively patted Vin on the shoulder as she passed, her smile bright. JD clambered off Vin and also departed with a pat, a little more sticky than Sarah's.

"Night Mr Tanner."

"G'night kids."

Chris stretched out his long frame, black jeans disappearing under the table. Crossing his arms over his chest, Larabee lent back and yawned. Tanner turned from watching the children leave the room and was immediately caught by Larabee's gaze.

Two sets of guarded eyes met, icy blue against stone green, neither giving nor pressing forward. Silence hung in the air for a few moments, both men strangely at ease despite the questioning looks. Finally Chris said, "There's a ball game on tonight, you are welcome to listen in with me."

His friendly manner was so convincing that Vin had a hard time deciding which was the real Chris. The man who offered a hand of friendship, or the briefly glimpsed soul that understood more than Vin was willing to admit. Hardness and warning flashed from those green eyes, even as the calloused hand reached to help Vin.

Nodding silently in acknowledgment to the warning, Vin answered verbally, "No thanks Chris. Reckon I'll hit the sack."

"Okay. Mariah had Michael put your bag in your room. Help yourself to any clothes that are in the drawers," Chris stood and Vin followed suit, Mariah entering the kitchen with an armload of dirty clothes.

"Thank you ma'am for the wonderful dinner. I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome Mr Tanner. It's always a pleasure to feed an extra mouth, especially someone as skinny as you."

A small smile broke the gaunt face and Vin nodded quietly and left the kitchen. Behind him, he heard Chris thanking Mariah for the meal as well, her startled giggle making his smile break out into a full grin. Shaking his head, Vin entered the room he had been given for the night.

Closing the door behind him, Tanner spied his battered bag at the foot of the bed. Gathering it up, he entered the small en suite bathroom and proceeded to strip. He carefully placed his worn clothing on the toilet seat, and his boots beneath the basin. Snatching up a mini-shampoo, the kind one found in hotels, Vin stepped into the shower and turned the water on.

He didn't react to the initial cold water and began to lather up with soap as the water warmed. Soon steam filled the little bathroom, as the young drifter enjoyed his first shower in months. Dirt and grim fell away in torrents as near scalding hot water beat down on the lean body. Long tangled hair was forced into a mass of cleanliness and slowly detangled. Muscles tensed from months of depravation and stress eased at the water's touch.

His ablutions complete, Vin simply stood under the hot torrent, exulting in the incredible feel of warm water cascading down his body. If he could, Tanner would have stayed in that shower for hours, but fully aware that with an entire family to bathe and clean, hot water was a luxury to be shared.

Switching off the water, Tanner grabbed a clean towel and played the soft material through his hands. Sweet smelling, the towel was thick and fluffy, and Vin quickly wrapped it around himself. Finding his comb, Vin continued the detangling-process, firmly pulling the comb's teeth through his hair. Tanner took his time get dried and dressed, drawing out this rare chance at modern conviences.

Half an hour later, Tanner was stretched across the bed on his back. Warm and full, the young man was ready to sleep for a week. Yet sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. He was listening to the Larabee family get ready for bed, the tiny pitter patter of feet running upstairs echoing down to his room. Vaguely Vin heard the game playing on the radio in the den. Mariah's soft voice sent the feet moving again and soon creaks and groans from the bedroom floorboards above could be heard.

The evening was still young, but as life often is on a farm, the family were early to bed and sure to rise early. Pulling himself from the comfort of the bed, shrugging off its call of softness, Vin rolled out his bare blanket near the hearth. Gathering a spare blanket from a cupboard, Vin pulled a pillow to the floor as well, and settled down on the firm floor. The fire's warmth wafted over him but Vin lay on his back, wide awake.

The sounds of home and hearth drowned out the wintry weather blowing outside. For a moment Vin allowed himself to forget – to forget his life and journey. The hardships and trials were securely locked away as always, and tonight the distant burning sands could not claim the restless sleeper. The moment of peace took advantage of the weary body. Tonight an ex-soldier, haunted by the past and present, slipped unaware into a dreamless sleep, lulled by the promise of security contained within the Larabee home.

The sun had yet to tip the eastern horizon when Vin awoke. Shocked at his lapse, Vin stood and immediately got dressed. Pulling on the worn boots, Vin picked up his bag that had been packed the night before. He quickly folded the borrowed blanket, and replaced the pillow and left the room as he had found it. In fact, for all intents and purposes, the room did not even look used. The bed was still made, the borrowed clothing in the hamper and the bathroom spotless.

The household slumbered on as Vin made his way through to the kitchen. A banked fire glowed in the fireplace and the morning looked to be as grey as the previous one. Low, ominous clouds, promising snow hung over the farm and countryside. A biting breeze blew through the cracks on the porch as Vin stepped into the cold.

Wrapping his scarf around his neck, Vin stepped off the porch and strode towards the road, without a backwards glance. Behind him, the Larabee ranch pulsed a warm comfort, a comfort Vin denied himself. He couldn't afford to give in to the firmly squashed urge to stay. He couldn't afford to get used to comfort and security, even for one night, because its inevitable departure always cut to the quick, no matter how hard one tried to be hardened to it.

Clean and warm, Vin trudged into the grey morning and briefly acknowledged the flickering spectre waiting by the road. In the distance, the road disappeared into a tiny speck, endless and unforgiving. There was no light at the end of that tunnel, only darkness and an even blacker companion with which to walk the journey. His mind shut to the call of secret yearnings, Tanner resolutely marched on, the walk to the road taking longer than expected.

No light, no hope. Unbidden the words whispered inside his head and he slowed to a stop. Standing halfway between worlds, the ranch behind and the road ahead, Vin paused to think. He had abandoned the road for a golden flash, left his journey for the glimpse of 'real' life. But his reality beckoned again, the lessons of too many years pulling at his feet. The road was endless and even as one road turned, another began – there was always somewhere to go. No reason to stay.

Then why did he wait and pause in the journey he knew he must continue? The spectre rose impatiently, urging him to move, and follow his chosen road. 'Never look back.' It was a phrase Tanner felt was written on his heart. 'Never look back.' He resisted the temptation to do just that, to look back at the ranch and all its potential.

A tiny dead leaf blew past his feet, its hard dead body rattling on the ground. Tanner watched its course involuntarily and the leaf was blown toward the barn. Blue eyes slitted against the wind studied the structure. The leaf was gone, as if it had never existed, lost to sight. The moment of reflection was drawn out, Vin standing stock still in the driveway. A self-mocking smile finally bent his stiff lips and the young drifter walked towards the barn.

Stepping into its relative warmth, Vin shrugged off his satchel and noted the pairs of brown eyes staring at him. Three milk cows lowed gently, patiently waiting their turn to be milked. Tanner had always found it easier to act on instinct than to endlessly deliberate the twists and turns of fate. Instinct had saved his butt more times than he cared to recall and in the face of an unexpected dilemma, Vin found himself relying once again on instinct. And right now, it felt right to be working to repay the Larabees' for their kindness.

A pleasant hour was spent while Vin milked the cows and cleaned out the barn. He was halfway through mucking out one of the stalls when he heard the soft approach of a pair of boots. Without turning around, Vin drawled, "Mornin'."

"Morning," Chris replied, leaning against the wooden doorway into the stall. "Didn't have to do this ya know. The work yesterday more than covered your meal and room."

Vin just shrugged and continued working. Silence hung between the pair once again as Chris watched Vin muck out the stall. "You're no stranger to farm work." The statement was unexpected since Tanner had seen Chris study his packed satchel near the barn doors and had been certain that Larabee would ask when he was planning to leave.

"Reckon so," Vin replied even though Chris hadn't been questioning his experience. Once Tanner was finished with the stall, he straightened up and noted Larabee's expectant stance. Propping the pitchfork against the stall wall, Vin faced Chris, his arms akimbo, waiting for the rancher to broach whatever it was he wanted to talk about.

Taking a step forward, Chris reached up and ran his fingers through his hair before looking up at Vin. The barn was silent as the two men stood facing each other, both wondering at the nervousness they felt. Finally Chris spoke, "Ain't too sure how to say this but,"

As those words reached Vin, his heart sank and he could feel the walls slamming down as he prepared himself to hear the inevitable story. 'Time for you to go.' 'Don't need a hand'. 'Got no use for a piece of fli…'

"…but I usually go with my instincts and they've been screaming at me since yesterday afternoon."

Vin waited, waited to hear the 'respectable' man confirm the unchanged course of events. Waited to hear yet again how unwelcome his 'kind' were. Waited with bated breath, his hope firmly squashed beneath experience, waited to hear those words, surprisingly desperate not to hear it from this man – this golden hope.

Chris scuffed his worn boots against the barn floor and missed the tightening expression on Vin's face as he tried to find the words he wanted to say. "Well, what I'm trying to say is this."

Vin braced himself.

Chris took in a deep breath and told himself to stop pussyfooting around and thus went in full steam, completely direct as was his usual manner. "I need a hand around here and could really use your help. You know your way around a ranch and I'm sure you could use a job. It'll pay well and includes a room and three meals a day – for as long as it works out between us. The job's yours, if you want it."

Vin's mind was blank, all his immediate responses stunned by the unexpected words. Hope flared brightly in his heart and Vin turned Chris' words over and over in his mind, running them over, making sure that he had heard right.

"A job?" Vin barely recognised his own voice, half unaware that he had spoken.

"Yeah," Chris said, watching the young man before him. Vin was as still as a statue, his entire body frozen, giving nothing away. He had yet to meet Chris' gaze, or even show any emotion at the offer. No excitement, relief or even scorn. In fact, if nothing else Vin reminded Chris of a wild creature paused in flight, considering the forked road before it. Not wishing to force the issue, Chris said, "I always follow my instincts and right now they're telling me to keep ya around."

Slowly Vin raised his head and stared at Chris. The rancher was an arms length away and waiting in the space between them, was Chris' outstretched hand, offering more than Vin could fully comprehend. But it was Chris' steadfast gaze that caught Vin's attention. Tanner saw only a sincere and honest desire for him to accept, a genuine need. Again he looked at Larabee's proffered hand and as it swam into focus Vin felt something stir at his side.

The quiet urges that had guided him through so many years of trouble were whispering urgently for him to accept. Meeting Chris' gaze full on, he grasped Larabee's hand and said, "You got yourself a new hand, Mister."

Chris smiled with true pleasure and shook Vin's hand sealing the offer. Without needing to look, Tanner knew that the spectre was hovering behind him and strangely no anger was emanating from it. In fact its attention seemed to be focused on Chris and Vin shot a quick warning to his shadow, _Don't even think about it._

The shade withdrew but Vin could still feel it's cool presence lingering nearby. Chris placed his hand on Vin's shoulder and guided his new employee towards the door. "Good to have you on board Tanner."

Vin turned his attention back to Larabee and together they left the barn, leaving a black shadow to swell into a vague man shape, it's darkness chilling the small barn.

The bright spring sunshine was pleasantly warm. A cool breeze kept the temperature from reaching uncomfortable levels, and the rolling hills of the Larabee ranch seemed to drink in the sunshine, lush green grass weaving in the breeze. Azure blue sky arced over the land, wispy cloud streams interlacing across the heavens. A perfect spring day.

Beneath the temperate sky Tanner made his way back to the ranch house. Three months had passed in the blink of an eye and Vin found himself fitting into life at the Larabee ranch as if there has always been a place for him and that they had just been waiting for him to arrive. His already tanned skin had deepened into a healthy pallor, the ravages of winter long vanished. Mariah had made sure that his lean frame had filled out a little, chasing the half-starved look away with mountains of wholesome food.

Beneath him, walked his new horse, a black gelding full of energy and go. It had so much energy that it delighted in giving Vin even more exercise than he would have liked. Vin crested the rise of the hill before him and below him lay the ranch house bustling with activity. Vin couldn't stop the smile from creasing his lips as he watched young JD chase a squawking chicken round the yard, calling to it in his high pitched voice. "Here chickey, chickey."

Michael and Gabriel were helping their father feed the horses, their voices rising above JD's as they argued over who was going to feed Thunder, Chris' prize stallion. Vin could see Sarah and Mariah through the kitchen window, watching their men work, laughing at JD's antics as he managed to corner his elusive chicken.

Unseen by the family below, Vin guided his horse down the steep hill, using only his legs to direct his sure-footed steed. Unusually for a noon time the ranch was very busy, as usually by now Chris would been out on the ranch watching over the herds of horses grazing there. The Larabee children would have scattered around to neighbours or to friends or else have been sent on errands by their mother. But the Larabee family had shown Vin time and again that they very rarely kept to any routine or set pattern of activities. Regular spur-of-the-moment decisions had Chris spending time with his children, leaving the ranch to Vin's capable hands. Despite the short time period that Vin had worked at the ranch, Chris entrusted him with the responsibilities that many year-long employees would not have enjoyed. In fact it felt like Vin had been here for years and not the scant couple of months.

The Larabee ranch was a booming business. Chris rented out his land and services to neighbouring and distant ranches. Chris had a selection of exceptional stud mares and stallions, whose services he sold, as well as tracks of wonderful grazing pasture that smaller ranches could rent for their 'overflow' of cattle. It meant a lot of paperwork and responsibility, but with Vin's help, Chris was turning his business into a raging success this season. The ranch was full of young colts and fillies, grazing on the nourishing grass, brood mares waiting to be covered by Chris' stallions and all his breeding mares were either with foal or nursing foals to be given to their owners once weaned.

The stable was warm and pungent with horsey aromas wafting through the air. Vin stabled his black gelding, affectionately dubbed Peso because like a bad penny he kept turning up when least expected, especially during meal times, sticking his head through an open kitchen window and looking for apples.

Vin left the stable, hat in hand, his stomach rumbling at the prospect of a well-deserved lunch. A tiny brown furbull nearly tripped him over as the newest addition to the Larabee family, Buck, a small Labrador puppy ran through Vin's legs. The excitement that had drawn the puppy soon became evident as Vin heard the sound of joyful laughter as Chris swung the twins in his arms, their blond hair mirroring their father's in the sun. Sarah had joined the small group in the yard, and she was busy jumping up and down eager to have her own turn.

JD dashed past, hot on little Buck's heels and tackled his father's legs. Together the four Larabee children piled on their father, wrestling him to the ground and trying to tickle him. Chris roared with laughter as the children succeeded in breaching his defences and tickling him mercilessly. "Help!"

"Yes Unca Vin, come help!" JD shouted from his perch on Chris' chest where his sturdy weight was adding to the melee, "Come help us tickle Pa!"

Grinning widely Vin rescued Chris from a face-cleaning by picking up the little puppy who happily obliged Vin by licking his own face. "Reckon I'll just let you lot handle your Pa. Seems well in hand." JD's grin matched Vin's for size and the little tyke gleefully joined his siblings in torturing their father.

Chris retaliated by lurching to his feet with difficulty and grabbing JD by his suspenders as the child made to get away. "Oh no kiddo, it's your turn now."

Shrieking in mock-terror JD tried to get out of his suspenders but Sarah and the twins rescued him by tackling Chris again. The renewed pile of squirming children and a beset father landed with a dull thump on the grass, little Buck's shrill yapping piercing the afternoon air. Holding the eager puppy who was desperate to join in the fun, Vin climbed the kitchen stairs and tipped his hat to Mariah who was watching her brood with a smile.

"Ma'am." Vin carefully handed Buck to Mariah who chuckled as the puppy tried to lick her face.

"Thanks Vin. Just what I wanted. Oy! You lot," the pile paused in the mock-fighting, "Lunch is on the table."

Like lightning, four hungry children raced past their mother and Vin, leaving a somewhat bedraggled Chris lying on the grass. Larabee gazed at the blue sky above him, watching a bird glide through the air when Vin's out-stretched hand appeared in front of his eyes.

"Fine lot of good you were." Chris could hear Mariah ordering the children to wash up before sitting down and he grasped Vin's hand and pulled himself up.

"Wouldn't think of interfering. They might decide to ambush me next."

Chris humphed in disbelief, "Right. Like anyone can sneak up on you."

"Hate to disappoint 'em."

"We're gonna be disappointed if we let them get to the table before us. Come on, pard."

Tbc in Part 2


	2. Chapter 2

Karma Killer

Part 2

The weeks had flown by into a full blown summer, the sun and rain competing for the amount of time they shared in the heavens. Miles upon miles of green pasture lay under the watchful eye of Tanner and Larabee. A bumper season had resulted in not only more work than two men could handle, but also a prospect for Larabee to expand his business. A neighbour had offered to sell Larabee an adjoining pasture. Bob Jones was experiencing a small cash flow problem and as he had more land than he needed, selling the field to Chris was a perfect solution. In response to this offer and the mounting workload, Chris had called in a few friends to help out.

Josiah Sanchez arrived first, his large muscular frame dwarfing the tiny pick-up truck he drove. Seeing the tall man emerge from the dented truck was like watching a giant squirm out of a Mini Cooper, a sight little JD had found hilarious. Sanchez was the full-time reverend in town but had two young assistants to cover his duties and the big man often took off his collar in order to lend a hand in the neighbourhood. Chris was an old friend and Josiah loved to partake in an annual 'vacation' – working the Larabee Ranch.

Ezra Standish was a surprise. The local hotel owner, Standish did not appear to be the type who engaged in manual labour. His black bmw looked distinctly out of place on the dusty ranch drive-way and Vin couldn't help but smile to see the fancy-dressed man climb out of the car. And Tanner's initial impression proved to be right as well. Ezra was not here as a labourer but rather had come to help Chris with his account books and the excess of paperwork coming in from prospective clients.

Nathan Jackson was the town doctor and had left his clinic to a couple of experienced interns and his capable wife. Pager in hand, Jackson had arrived geared out to help his old friend. The black doctor was an avid believer in fresh air and hard work and took his own advice to get out of the office more and exercise.

And last but certainly not least, Buck Wilmington had arrived two days after everyone else. His bright red truck had trundled into the Larabee ranch on its last legs and then proceeded to die. A huge cloud of noxious smoke erupted from the engine but unconcerned, Buck leapt from the truck to swing Mariah into a hug and to slap his best friend on the back all the while talking a mile a minute. His guffaw of laughter had startled the horses in a nearby pasture when he discovered the name of the newest Larabee family pet.

The newcomers had all reacted differently to the news that Chris had a new hand. Nathan had already met Vin, when Tanner had gone into town and had bumped into the doctor. Jackson had greeted Vin with a friendly smile and handshake, commenting on how much healthier he looked. Josiah had given Vin a searching look and then shook his hand in a crushing grip. Opinion reserved.

Ezra barely greeted Tanner, focusing his attention on Chris and Nathan, soon following Larabee inside to the office, his southern drawl a sharp contrast to Chris' mid-west accent.

Buck however, has intensely interested in Tanner. After a large dinner with everyone welcoming Buck to the summer activities, Wilmington cornered Vin in the den. Tanner had been about to slip out the side door to his room at the back of one of the stable's when Buck caught up with him.

"Hey, Tanner. Hang on a minute."

Vin paused, his hackles prickling a little at Wilmington's tone. He turned around to face Buck and found him standing uncomfortably close. Looming over Vin, Buck studied the shorter man for a moment before saying, "Kinda curious about why Chris hired you. He ain't needed any help but us before."

Immediately sensing a territorial issue, Vin stepped back in order to regain some of his personal space. Squaring his shoulders he shrugged at Buck's statement, refusing to be drawn into defending himself. Wilmington continued, "So where you from?"

"No place in particular."

Not satisfied with a vague answer, Buck pressed for more information, "Ahh, come on kid. Everybody's from somewhere."

"Nope."

A bit disturbed by Vin's closed off manner, Buck changed tact, "Seem to know your way around a ranch. Worked on one before?"

"Reckon so."

"Where was it?"

"Up north."

Buck gritted his teeth, determined to get some specific information from this guy. After hearing that Chris had hired a new hand, someone who reportedly got on very well with Larabee, Buck had felt a small surge of jealously. Delighted when Chris called him up to come help, Buck had been eager to find out who this new 'friend' was, because that was what everyone was calling him. Not just the new hand or hired help, but Chris' friend. And with people saying stuff like they seemed real close, like they had know each other for years, the town's only bar owner had become very curious.

"What were you doing before this job?"

Vin saw the angry stance to Buck's shoulders and knew that Wilmington considered the Larabee ranch part of his 'territory', a place to protect. And now he needed to gauge if Vin posed any threat to the ranch. And with the same instincts that had kept him out of trouble before, Tanner knew that telling Buck he had been in the army recently would only open doors to troubles he didn't want. Aware that continuing to be vague and non-committal would only infuriate Buck and make him dig for more information, Vin decided to delay the inevitable for a little while longer.

"Not much. Little seasonal-work."

Buck pressed again, "Like what?"

"This and that."

Realising Tanner was not going to be forthcoming, everything about the man was screaming 'closed book', Buck backed down, telling himself it was only for now. "Then I'll see ya tomorrow morning."

Tanner nodded and made his escape, disappearing into the night.

"Lay off it Buck. Tanner's a good man."

"Yeah, well, how well do you know him, huh? For all you know he could be on the run or something!"

Chris shook his head, refusing to give Buck's accusation credibility. "No. I don't think so. He hasn't caused any trouble, he's been a lot of help."

Determined, Buck pushed Chris a little more, "You check him out? Find out if he is who he says he is?"

"I know all I need to know about him already, Buck."

"I'll take that as a no, then. Ya ain't even curious how he came to be wandering around like a drifter?"

"Nope."

Slamming his hand down on the arm of chair in frustration, Buck half-laughed sarcastically, "Damnit Chris, you've had a near-complete stranger living with you since winter and you know diddly squat about him. For all you know you've invited in some weirdo whose gonna disappear with Sarah."

His eyes hard with anger, Chris growled, "Now you're accusing me of being stupid, Buck. I'm not some naïve hick who trusts the first drifter who walks by. I got a feel for Tanner and he hasn't proved me wrong."

"Not yet," Buck muttered, fingering his moustache angrily.

Unwilling to have his judgment questioned any more, Larabee stood up and prepared to leave the room. Turning to his old friend, who was still seated, Chris said, "If you can't abide by my decisions, you can leave. I trust Tanner and he stays."

Buck Wilmington sat for a couple of minutes in the empty room, watching the small fire crackle in the hearth. "Fine start there Bucklin. Fine start."

"Unca Buck, can I come wiv you?"

"Well, little britches, I would love to have you riding with me but," Buck bent down to eyeball JD, his moustache close enough to tickle the little boy's face, "I don't want you showing ole Buck up, being better at riding herd than me an' all."

Giggling, JD ran off to tell his brothers how good Buck thought he was. As the small child ran towards Michael and Gabriel who were talking to Josiah, he ran right into Vin who was returning from his pre-dawn ride to check the outer pastures.

Jumping in the air and quivering with excitement, the youngest Larabee fairly squeaked, "Unca Vin, Buck says I'm a better rider than him!"

Snatching the bundle of energy up, Tanner spoke with his laconic drawl that JD seemed to love so much, "That right huh? Pretty soon you'll be riding with us then." Nodding vigorously JD fingered the small chain Vin wore near his collar. "Unca Vin, you still gonna take me riding wiv you on Thunder?"

"You bet. See ya later, squirt." Putting JD down Tanner noticed Buck frowning at him, having seen his interaction with JD. Ignoring Wilmington, Vin walked over to Chris and said quietly, "It happened again. This time in the north-east field. Followed the tracks back to the same spot."

"Damn. You fix the fence?"

At Vin's nod, Chris turned to address the assembled men. "Guys. Besides what I've already got you doing today, please keep an eye out for any fence breaks. Someone is using the outer pastures .. for something. You see anything, find Vin and let him know. Alright?"

Nathan and Josiah nodded, eager to get out on the range but Buck continued to frown as Chris emphasised Vin's position on the ranch. "See ya either at lunch or dinner."

The first couple of weeks flew by as six pairs of hands made light work of all the chores a large ranch generated. Josiah soon grew to like the quiet Tanner, often working with him in the outer pastures. Ezra surprised everyone by joining in with the manual labour the second day, but proved true to form when he 'supervised' instead of worked. Nathan, although good friends with Standish, refused to have him 'supervising' while the doctor did all the work. The first two times Nathan and Ezra paired off, Standish came back covered in mud and other field debris. Josiah actually got Ezra to work the only time the Southerner accompanied the preacher. Standish returned sweaty and very unhappy from that excursion, vowing to never leave the comfort of his bed again.

Buck and Chris worked well together, but initially Wilmington found himself paired with someone else while Vin and Chris went off. Anytime the three of them did anything together, tension would build until it became almost unbearable. Strangely, in response to the tension, in the last week Vin had sought out Ezra's company and soon the pair of men were working almost constantly together.

It was on one of those occasions, well into the fourth week of the season, that Ezra made a startling discovery. The Southerner had plonked himself under a tree and was watching Vin dig a series of holes for a new fence. Josiah and Nathan were working in the opposite direction, planning on meeting Vin halfway. Ezra liked Tanner, despite his initial abruptness towards him. The young man allowed an individual space to express himself to the full extent without interruption. True, his answers to any questions were either non-existent or short and to the point, but Standish found himself enjoying Vin's company.

Mariah had provided a packed lunch, as they would be working too far away to warrant returning to the ranch for a meal. Ezra had insisted on packing some imported beer and mineral water so Vin had insisted, by pointedly leaving them behind, that Ezra carry them. The grumbling business-man had had to return to the ranch five minutes into their ride after discovering his missing 'necessities'. Sipping his beer, Standish gazed out at the scenery, a herd of horses in a nearby field drawing his attention more often than not.

"I do declare that if those horses partake in any more of this fine grass, we'll have to roll them back to their owners."

"We?"

Ezra smiled as he took another sip, "Yes. I am quite certain that under my expert guidance, you bastions of animal husbandry can perform the task admirably."

As expected, Tanner's reply was nonverbal and Ezra found himself grinning at the look on Vin's face. "Ah, this is truly the life, Mr Tanner. Warm sunshine, pleasant green fields, a quality beverage in your hand and the prospect of a sumptuous feast waiting at the end of the day. There is nothing quite like a hard day's work to whet a man's appetite."

Again no answer from Tanner, just the continued sound of Vin working methodically. Unperturbed, Standish continued to relish the moment, making an occasional comment as the mood struck.

About an hour later, both men had eaten their lunch and Vin had dozed off under the tree, his cowboy hat covering his face. The lean ranch hand was stretched out on his back, hands behind his head, quietly napping in the hot sunshine. Ezra, busy reading a book he had brought along for just such an opportunity, was happily immersed in a tale of intrigue.

Ezra, finally taking note of the hour, realised that if they were going to finish the fence in time, Vin would have to get started soon. He put his book down and stood up, stretching his arms out wide and yawned sleepily. Stepping towards the slumbering man, Standish contemplated offering to help Tanner with the fence. Noting how deeply Vin was sleeping, Ezra spontaneously decided to have a little fun.

Kneeling down near Vin's face, Ezra leant over the prone man's head and began to tickle Tanner's exposed face with a piece of grass, all the while singing, "Mister Tannnnnnah?"

Standish had barely made a second pass across Vin's face with the grass, when he was suddenly grabbed by his neck and his entire frame tossed over onto his back. Stunned, Standish found Tanner sitting on his chest, the man's knees digging into his arms painfully. A large knife, Ezra didn't remember Tanner having, was pressed against his cheek and the pale blue eye above his own startled green ones were flat with anger. A few long seconds passed, with both men staring at each other and when Ezra tried to smile and shrug the moment away, Vin's hand around his throat tightened noticeably.

Whatever startled instinct that had produced this reaction had certainly passed and Ezra could see it in Vin's eyes. Tanner knew he was hurting Standish, knew that the instant of surprised reaction had passed, but the drifter was not budging.

A small flutter of fear began to develop in Ezra's stomach, as Vin's icy eyes continued to bore into him. A nervous tension was building and Standish almost began to believe that he had made a serious mistake, when a wide, mischievous smile split Vin's face. It was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds and with that ear-splitting grin, the tension and fear disappeared as if they had never existed.

"Don't always pay to tease a sleeping bear. Ya mite end up with one less hand than ya started out with."

Tanner stood up and off Ezra in a smooth movement, the knife disappearing into a sheath in his boot and Vin's other hand extended to help Standish up.

"No, indeed not, it would seem," Ezra mumbled as he brushed himself off, still a little shaken by the intense moment. But Vin hadn't stuck around to see Standish's reaction, instead Ezra looked up to see Vin already walking toward the incomplete fence, hammer in hand. Deciding that it might be prudent to join in, just this once, Standish retrieved his own tools and strolled over to where Tanner was working.

Summer was fading and autumn was dawning, the large maple trees planted along the drive turning the scenery into a breath-taking array of colours. Little Buck and JD ran amok through the falling leaves, shrill yaps and squeals rising in the air as they chased each other. Vin, exasperated to a point of desperation, convinced the energetic terrors that running through his neat piles of leaves was not nearly as much fun as stalking Chris. JD bought the attempt to get rid of him, but he soon returned after failing miserably to catch his father unawares. Launching himself instead on Vin, the tiny boy crowed in delight as Tanner gave up on trying to complete his chore of raking up the leaves and joined little Buck in chasing the small boy around the yard.

The business of the ranch was still booming, with orders for next season already flooding in. Ezra was talking about Chris needing a full time bookkeeper while Buck was offering to become a partner in the business. Vin's job these days, when not raking leaves or pursuing mischievous children, was rounding up horses to be returned to their owners. The day time hours were filled with the comings and goings of animals, horse-cars and men. Mariah joined in the round-up, her long black hair streaming behind her as she and Chris raced each other, laughing like teenagers when neither could agree who had won their race.

And in to this scene of family and friends, entered Cletus Fowler. Dressed as smartly as Ezra on his best day, Fowler arrived in a long limousine with two black Mercedes Benz trailing him. Four tough-looking men exited the pair of Mercedes and Fowler strode arrogantly towards the ranch house, flanked by his cronies. Fortunately, all six of the Larabee's friends were present when Fowler arrived. As the unexpected visitor approached the porch steps, Chris walked out the front door. Buck was sitting on the porch with Josiah, enjoying a cold beer after a long day. Ezra followed Chris from the office the two had been working in. Nathan ambled around the porch to flank Fowler. Vin, unnoticed by the strangers, fell in behind the four henchmen.

"Mr Larabee?" Fowler extended his hand to Chris, who shook it briefly while taking his measure of the man before him. "The name's Fowler, Cletus Fowler. Of FC Industries. Perhaps we might have a word inside."

Something about Fowler made Chris very uneasy and he found himself reluctant to let Fowler inside his home. The fact that the man had brought four bodyguards only increased Chris' uneasiness but he still showed Fowler inside. Behind the visitor, Vin stood beneath one of the trees lining the drive-way and every instinct he had was screaming that Fowler was all wrong. The black spectre had materialised the instant Fowler set foot on the Larabee ranch and now it hung over Vin's shoulder, it's attention fixed on the disappearing form of Fowler as he entered the ranch. Chris had let Fowler enter before him, and as he turned to follow his guest, he caught Vin's eye across the yard and indicated for Tanner to join him.

Chris' office was in a state of organised chaos, Ezra's latest attempt at a new filing system strewn over the usually impeccably neat workspace. "Please excuse the mess, Mr Fowler. Have a seat." Chris indicated the only other chair in the office and sat behind his desk. Buck stepped into the office as well, followed closely by Vin who shut the door. Fowler's bodyguards had been left outside, to be pumped by Ezra for any information.

Buck leant against one of bookcases, in full view of Larabee and Fowler, while Tanner stayed behind Cletus, blending into the background. If Fowler was put off by Vin and Buck's presence, he didn't show it, merely acknowledging Chris' smooth move to have him isolated from his bodyguards. Vin listened as Fowler and Chris spoke about trivial town gossip, both skirting around the main issue, the purpose to Cletus' visit.

Larabee had long suspected that FC Industries were behind the trespassing incidents. The company had made repeated offers to buy his land before, but this was the first time Chris had actually met the man behind the business. Finally when Chris looked to be getting tired of the small talk, Fowler made his move.

"You are sitting on a little gold mine here, Mr Larabee and I feel that this is perfect time for you to take on a business partner. You need the additional cash flow and management experience."

Chris nodded, "That's why Buck's here. He's going to be my business partner." He said like it was final and not open to negotiation. Fowler snorted some-what disparagingly and said airily, "While I don't doubt that Mr Wilmington can run a – bar is it?" At Buck's short nod, Fowler continued, "You need an individual with the capital and acumen to take this fledging business to whatever heights it can reach. Someone with certainly more experience in business than running a hotel, however successful Standish's establishment is."

"Someone like you?" Chris asked, leaning forward onto his desk, pinning Fowler with a deadpan stare.

"Mr Larabee, I won't deny that I've had my eye on your business for quite some time now and after extensive research I feel that I am the best option you have." Cletus had a nasty smirk on his face, and looked positively smug about something.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of what's in my best interest and I'll just let you make an offer," Larabee shot back, intensely disliking the man more and more.

Smiling in triumph, Fowler handed Chris a large envelope, "I believe that you will find it enthralling. I would stay and go through the proposal personally, but I must leave, I have another pressing engagement."

After Fowler oozed out past Tanner, Chris tossed with envelope onto his desk with a curse. Buck stood up straight and muttered, "Why do I feel like I've been slimed just by being in the same room with that idiot."

"I can't believe he had the nerve to walk in here and act as if he already owned my home. 'Fledging business' my ass! He's after something else and hell if I know what." Chris sank into his chair, running the conversation through his mind over and over again.

Wilmington picked up the envelope and ripped it open, paging through the proposal with a frown on his face. "Well he ain't talking penny-ante stuff here. His business methods may stink to high heaven but he sure does present an appealing bank balance."

Buck tossed the page of interest to Chris who gave a low whistle at the sight of the figures offered. "I don't know whether to be flattered or scared. What does he know that I don't?"

Wilmington shrugged, still reading through the pages, "Whatever it is, he sure as hell wants this ranch."

Twisting his chair so that he faced Vin, who still stood silent in the background, Larabee asked, "Whadaya think Vin?"

Tanner stepped out of the shadows near the doorway, into the light streaming in from the large window. As he did so a brief chill filled the room and unnoticed by all save Vin, the spectre flittered through the door. "What I think ain't so much important as the facts. Whatever Fowler wanted, he's been getting. Information. On you, this ranch, your family. You can forgive a man fer being eccentric but down right suspicious? Wouldn't touch that offer with a ten-foot barge pole."

Buck nodded, "Tanner's right. If Fowler were on the up and up, he wouldn't have got his men to trespass on your ranch. And some of the stuff in this is way too detailed for my liking."

Chris smiled, "I ain't stupid boys, I can see this deal ain't worth the paper it's written on and I sure as hell won't be signing over my ranch to him. But …"

Tanner finished what was bothering Chris, "How in the hell did he expect you to fall for it. What's he trying to do?"

"Exactly, " Larabee said, pointing at the proposal, "First FC offers to buy my land, then he trespasses and breaks a few fences. Now he comes round, smooth as you please and offers to buy my entire business. And acts as if he's doing me a favour. I don't buy him thinking that I'll fall for that, so what is he playing at?"

"Got me, pard. Maybe Ezra could figger it out." Wilmington tossed the proposal on the desk, rubbing his arms as a chill passed him. The black spectre floated past Buck towards Chris, transparent in the soft sunlight. Hovering just above Larabee's head, it twisted itself to match Chris' shadow on the wall. Chris shivered as the spectre touched his shadow, feeling a spike of unease, as if someone had walked over his grave.

Shaking off the effects, he said, "The hell with it. Let Ezra warp his brain around this one." Chris pushed away from his desk and left the room, Buck following him. Vin stayed for a moment in the empty study, watching as the spectre twirled in the shape of Larabee's shadow as if it found the shape pleasing.

It was later that night, when the children were asleep and the others had returned to their own homes, that Vin and Chris sat in the den talking. The pair didn't say much, they never seemed to need to but tonight Chris wanted something more than non-verbal support. Putting the proposal on the table between them, Chris turned to Vin who was seated in the arm chair next to him. "You got any ideas?"

"Some. Not many that make sense."

"Well share the wealth, they gotta be better than mine, " Chris sighed, frustrated that Fowler's motive eluded him. Vin shifted in his chair, sorting out what he wanted to say.

"Tell me Chris, you got anybody that'd want to see you hurt?"

Chris shook his head, "Not that I'd recall. Raised some hell as a kid but never got into anything serious. My dad left me in jail one night after the sheriff arrested me for being a public nuisance. Learnt my lesson real quick. Never had much call to make enemies if that's what you mean."

"Sorta, "Vin replied, "It's more in the way of someone wanting you to be obliged to them."

"Huh?"

"Here's how I see it. Fowler's out there, stomping around, generally making a lot of noise and fuss. Then he offers to buy you out. You ain't sure what he wants and don't take this wrong, but you feel threatened. Something ain't right."

Chris nodded, "Alright, I see where you going. But I don't know anybody that'd want to step in and help out that ain't already here."

Vin paused for a moment, fingering his dog tags, "It's not so much stepping in to help but to take advantage of you being distracted."

"Like Fowler's a diversion of some kind? Vin, this isn't some thriller with enemies behind every corner. I'm just a rancher with a good business and some hot shot is trying to play games with me."

Sighing, Vin shook his head, "Ya asked fer my opinion Chris and I don't think this has anything to do with your ranch. Whatever Fowler's up to, he's trying to blind ya to what's really happening."

"And we don't know what that is!" Chris stood and picked up the proposal, "Well, I'm not going to play games. If Fowler wants something from me, he'll have to come right out and ask." With those words Chris threw the proposal in the fire, watching the pages curl and blacken.

It was a few days later that Ezra arrived with good news. He ambled into Chris' office with a self-satisfied smirk, looking as if he had the crown jewels tucked in his jacket pocket. Chris looked up from his computer, a pile of invoices and receipts next to him. "What's got you looking so pleased with yourself?"

Ezra nudged a small pile of papers out of his way on the desk and proceeded to reverently place a yellow piece of paper on Chris' desk. "That my good friend is the reason I am so 'pleased'." Chris picked up the paper and scanned it and after reaching half way down the page, read something that made him re-read the whole page very carefully. Looking across to Ezra, now seated, Chris gasped, "This is legit?"

"As legally viable as anything I have ever read. It explains a great deal and makes Mr Fowler's somewhat un-orthodox methods understandable – if not still unethical."

"And illegal."

"Indeed."

Flapping the paper up, in order to read it again, Chris studied the single page document. It was a circular from a government official to the local mayor detailing the estimated worth of the land in the area. The numbers were astonishing, well above what Chris had understood his property was worth and it meant that Chris was indeed sitting on a gold mine.

Ezra opened his briefcase and pulled out several folders of documents. "I took the liberty of procuring additional information. Some of it is incomplete due to confidentiality clauses but otherwise the situation is clearly stated."

"You read 'em?" Chris asked, handing back the circular.

"I did and ..."

"Good then tell me straight what's going on here and why Fowler is trying so hard to get me to sell." Chris interrupted.

Ezra cleared his throat, took a deep breath and began his long-winded explanation. "After the disaster of the last war in the Middle East, the government is paying more attention to internal affairs. In order to reduce some of the unemployment we currently face, it is purchasing farm land in order to run state owned farms which will train workers in how to run their own businesses etc. Our fair county is under consideration. But, the local county property records are a mess and it is unclear as to who owns what land. So in order to cut through all the red tape, a feat unlikely to occur in any government bureaucracy, an edict was issued for all local property owners to identify themselves and provide proof of ownership before a certain date. If the owner failed to do so – apparently after repeated notification – it would be judged that the property belonged to a bank or corporation and therefore open to federal seizure."

"But I haven't received any notices about this?" Chris said incredulously.

Ezra nodded sagely, "Something else I believe we may lay at Mr Fowler's feet. As I was saying though, once the owners have proved ownership, they have the option of either selling their property directly the government or leasing the portions desired. Either way they would gain considerable profit. But, "

And Ezra paused and pulled out a file, "This by-law allows a co-op of sorts to approach the government, representing several properties. In this case, the money is almost tripled. You saw those figures Chris, we are talking enormous numbers here and Fowler obviously wants a large slice of this cake. He has been able to secure a few smaller properties not already registered with the government and has tried to stop you from finding out about it. The government have kept this out of the press for the simple reason of avoiding large corporations moving in like Fowler is and buying up properties and selling them back to the government at even higher prices. "

Chris leant back in his chair, taping his fingers together as he mulled over the situation. "So I have to prove ownership and then deal with the government on leasing the part of my land they want. And Fowler's trying to pre-empt me from finding this out."

"Correct."

"When does this have to happen by?"

"This coming Monday."

"We'll have to move soon then, I can't afford to miss that deadline."

"Indeed – you'll need to have all your documents in order by Friday at the latest."

Later that evening, Chris told Vin and Buck the good news. Fowler's actions were now explained and Chris seemed relieved to finally stop worrying about whatever it was that Fowler was up to. Vin, however, didn't share that feeling. He couldn't spot any flaws with the information and in fact it all made perfect sense. And that had Vin's hackles up. There was too much about Fowler that didn't fit and this reason, although genuine in appearance was almost too convenient. But without anything more than a hunch and an unsubstantiated one at that, Vin kept quiet and listened as Buck and Chris made plans to leave on Friday for the city.

It hardly made him feel any better that his altogether too familiar spectre was spending more and more time near Chris. And it was growing.

Saturday morning dawned with the first hint of winter chill. As Vin went about his morning chores, the ranch seemed ominously silent. Buck, Chris and Ezra had left early yesterday and despite the rest of the Larabee clan still being in attendance, a general sense of unease hung over the ranch.

Mariah was in the yard, hanging up some laundry while the kids played monopoly inside, when Vin strode past with an armload of firewood.

"Weird day, huh? Winter seems to have arrived all of a sudden."

Her bright, cheerful voice clashed with the sullen atmosphere and Vin tried to ignore the dancing spectre on the roof of the barn. "Reckon the weather changed a little too suddenly for us, left us behind a little."

Nodding, Mariah agreed, "You know, it's strange and I feel a little silly for feeling like this, but I kinda wish Chris was back already."

Tanner eyed the gathering clouds above them and shrugged in agreement, "Me too. I'd better get those pastures cleared today. Those clouds don't look good."

Staring up, Mariah sighed at the thought that her washing might not have time to dry. "See you for dinner?"

Vin's smile was bright, "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Later, dinner was a subdued affair, everyone's mood affected by the odd weather. Even little JD was unusually quiet. Trying to lift the mood, Vin asked his small friend his favourite question. "So, JD how come your name is Jack Daniel?"

The little boy beamed and the rest of the family groaned, Michael and Gabriel rolling their eyes. "Uncle Vin, did you have to ask that question?" Sarah whined, her mother laughing at their reactions.

JD puffed his chest out in indignation and declared stoutly, "It's a good story!"

Mike and Gabe chorused together, "But you take soooooooo long to get to the punch line!"

Pouting, the youngest Larabee huffed, "Well Unca' Vin likes the way I tell it."

"Sure do, Mr Larabee. Come on, tell me again."

Despite the continuing protests from his siblings, Jack Daniel Larabee launched into his favourite story of all time. "You see, Unca' Vin, Pa's great, great, great, great grandpa had a friend who looks like me."

Mike scowled and said, "You add more greats every time and you're supposed to look like him, not the other way round."

Mariah hushed the fiercely scowling JD and said calmly, "Let him tell it his way, Mike. You don't have to listen if you don't want to."

Vindicated, JD continued on, grinning smugly at the twins, "Well, this friend of Great, great, great, great, great, great grandpa's was called JD too. And when I was born Unca' Buck said I looked just like him."

At Vin's 'Ah, huh,', the boy rattled on, "Pa was out with Unca' Buck on the night I was born and they only saw me in the morning, afterwards. They had been out …" here JD paused and looked to his mother for help. "They was partaking of ly… liebat…libb…"

"Libations honey."

"Libbyians, as Unca' Ezra says and came to the hospital showzzled."

Vin laughed as Mariah corrected her son, "I think you mean sozzled dear."

"That's what I said, Ma! Showzzled! Anyways, they was drunk outa their tree, Unca' Nate says and when Buck said I looked like JD Dunne, they thought it was a good idea to name me, JD!"

JD paused for effect, and Vin asked, "What happened then?"

"Mama was laughing at them and said they may as well call me Jack Daniel after the amount of alcohol they had drunk, like a sorta feast to the bounder of the toast!"

"Toast to the founder of the feast!" Mike and Gabe shouted, "You always get it wrong, JD."

Ignoring his brothers, JD giggled, and said softly to Vin in an aside, "I still don't get it, Unca' Vin. Why were Pa and Buck drinking with Mr Jack Daniel and how come he's never come over to see me? And where did he find the feast and how come I ain't ever found it?"

Mariah let out a snort of laughter and Tanner had to fight to keep a smile off his face as he answered the serious little boy. "I'll introduce you to Mr Jack Daniel when you're a whole lot older, kid."

"You'll do no such thing, Vin Tanner!" Mariah ordered sternly, her serious expression ruined by the laughter in her eyes. Tanner just smiled back and prompted JD to continue.

Wriggling in his seat, JD said loudly, "So, then, Pa and Buck think Mama is really clever and that naming me Jack Daniel is a great idea! Before Ma can say anything, they both leave to go register my name and Unca' Ezra says they laughed all the way to the office."

JD looked at his Ma, as a realisation struck him for the first time, "Ma, you didn't like my name? Is that why you were cross when they got back?"

Shaking her head, Mariah smile gently, "Don't worry, honey, I love your name. It's the perfect reminder to your father to think before he acts."

"Huh?"

JD confused expression was priceless and Vin drawled softly, "Your Ma thinks Jack Daniel or JD Larabee is a fine name, and I reckon your Pa thinks that too."

"Yay!" JD practically threw himself into Vin's arms and enveloped the one-time drifter in a hug. Mariah began to clear away the dishes, Sarah helping while Mike and Gabe cleared the dishwasher with long faces. Feeling JD's small arms wrapped around his neck, the kid's obvious affection heartwarming, Vin Tanner felt a sense of truly being home sweep over him. He had never questioned his place with the Larabee's and at moments like this, he knew there was no other place on earth he'd rather be.

He lingered in the kitchen long after the family had gone upstairs. He was reluctant to leave, his vague sense of unease keeping him firmly planted where he sat. Eventually, Mariah came down to lock up and when she saw Vin still seated at the kitchen table, she said softly, "You can use the guest room again, Vin. I can make it up in no time."

Standing, Tanner shook his head, and said equally softly, "Wouldn't be right, Ma'am, with Chris not here. I'll see you in the morning. Thanks for dinner."

Later, he lay flat on his bed, staring up at the roof-beams above his head. Sleep was slow in coming and when slumber did finally claim him, it was the restless sleep of a man afraid to sleep too deeply lest he fail to wake up at all.

When Vin Tanner awoke in the early hours of the morning, it was not the sound of danger that brought him to awareness, but rather the lack thereof. Everything was quiet, far too quiet for a barn filled with animals.

Standing up, still fully clothed, Vin grabbed the shotgun near the head of the bed and slipped out of his room. There was a small crawl space above the feed bins which he silently climbed into and settled into the deep shadows to wait.

Several minutes passed before he heard furtive movement near the door to his room. The sounds were muffled and the uninvited guests unseen, but a voice soon hissed out clearly, "He ain't in there."

A second voice answered, surprisingly close to where Vin hid, "Betcha he's warming Larabee's side of the bed."

The first voice replied, drawing closer too, "Well, she is a fine looking woman."

The two men passed Vin unseen and their quiet comments were lost in the night. Careful to make no sound, Tanner slid out of the crawl space and hurried after them. He followed the sound of their footsteps and carefully pressed himself against the barn wall to covertly study the yard. He saw his two would-be-attackers and they were joined by a third and then a fourth man. The four strangers held a whispered conversation which did not carry beyond their huddle and Vin began searching for a way to slip into the ranch house unnoticed. The four men suddenly spilt up into pairs and two of them going back towards the barn while the others headed around the back of the house.

With the barn between him and the other men, Vin ran silently to the ranch house and quickly stepped inside. He closed the front door softly, locking it behind him before hurrying up the narrow staircase.

Mariah was sleeping peacefully and Vin awoke her with quick shake and a motion to be silent. She nodded her understanding and her confusion turned immediately into concern as he explained the situation.

"What the hell do they want, Vin?"

Vin shook his head in reply, "Whatever it is, it ain't good. Can you get the kids up and dressed quickly and quietly?"

Mariah was already up and out of the bed, getting dressed herself and she hissed softly, "Yeah, you get JD up while I get the others." She nearly jumped out of her skin in surprise when the sudden sound of wood falling on wood came from outside her window. Vin surreptiously checked the window and frowned when he couldn't see what the men were up to.

"Come on, hurry. We don't have a lot of time."

Vin soon had a sleepy JD slung over his shoulder while Mariah ushered her older children out of their rooms. Mike and Gabe appeared unconcerned by the unexpected night time activity and radiated suppressed excitement. Sarah, on the other hand clung to her mother, and stared at Vin nervously. Tanner gave her a reassuring smile and whispered softly to Mariah, "Does your storm cellar have more than one exit?"

Mariah nodded, "There's an entrance in the kitchen pantry and in Chris' study."

Tanner was about to speak when the smell of something burning reached him. Careful not to let his silhouette appear in the window, he risked a quick glance outside and what he saw spurred him into action.

"Quick, downstairs into the pantry!"

Running as quickly and as quietly as they could, the Larabees made it the pantry unseen, Vin shutting the door behind them. Mariah whispered, "What's burning?"

"The house."

Sarah whimpered quietly and the boys lost their excited expressions. JD had fallen asleep on Vin's shoulder and slumbered on unaware. "Quickly, Mariah, help me get the cellar open."

The sound of breaking glass spurred Mariah into action and soon all four of them were helping Vin clear floor so that the door to the cellar could be opened. Gabriel, in his haste to help, knocked over shelf of tins, their empty clatter loud in the silent house. Sarah gave a small shriek, which her mother hushed. Tanner did not even pause, but pressed on, clearing the shelves over the door.

Finally, everything was clear and Vin threw the trapdoor open and hissed, "Quick inside, all of you." Sarah dashed past, a flashlight clutched in her hands, lighting the way down the old stairs. Michael and Gabriel followed, their golden hair illuminated like halos by Mariah's flashlight. Vin passed a stirring JD to Mariah and whispered, "Stay down until I come for you. Lock the doors if you can and try find a well ventilated place away from the smoke."

Frowning, Mariah said, "What about you, Vin? What are you going to do?"

"Keep them away from you."

Biting her lip in indecision, Mariah Larabee sighed, "They won't find us down here, you don't have to go."

Shaking his head, Tanner replied softly, "They know that you all are home and if you don't come running out of the house soon, they're gonna start looking for you. And being trapped in a cellar is the last place you need to be then."

Reluctantly Mariah nodded and followed her children down the cellar stairs, JD's big brown eyes staring back at Vin as he closed the door over them. A whispered, "Be careful and good luck," was last thing Tanner heard before he started replacing the shelving.

He stepped out into the hallway, his shotgun at the ready and he slipped down the long middle passage which was already filled with smoke. Reaching the front hallway, Vin peered through the screendoor and saw that the porch was on fire. Through the flames he could see two men waiting in the front yard, both armed with rifles. The heat from the fire was intense, the flames greedily racing along the dry decking.

One of them spotted movement at the front door and the next thing Vin knew the doorframe near his head exploded as they opened fire on him. Ducking down, and scrambling for cover, he noted somewhat dryly that these men seemed unconcerned if fire or bullet killed him. The breaking glass had been them smashing in the windows and tossing burning brands onto furniture and wooden floors. Every room on the ground floor was afire and it seemed they were determined to keep the occupants of the house inside. Presumably the other two men were covering the back door, leaving very little room to manoeuvre an escape.

Vin ran into Chris' study, the men outside firing at him again, one of them following his movement round the house. The room was filled with smoke and flame, the fire contained near the window for the moment. With a quick jab, Vin broke the glass on Chris' gun rack and pulled down another rifle, and a few handguns. Loading them swiftly, and trying not to cough too much from the smoke, Tanner took his guns and made a dash for the stairs. Again gunfire followed his movement, this time from the rear of the house.

The second floor was now filled with smoke, but the fire had yet to progress up the stairs. He ran to Chris and Mariah's room, which had the best view of the front yard and slid down under the window sill. Peering over the top, he spotted one of their attackers who was randomly firing into the house. Vin grabbed the rifle, and in one smooth movement, stood up and fired. The man outside dropped instantly, his head exploding in spray of blood. His partner ran towards the body, staring up at the second storey of the ranch house and he too died in an instant, before he even saw Vin.

Two down, two to go.

The sound of a house slowly being consumed filled his ears and time was running out as the fire grew in intensity. Snatching both shotgun and rifle, he ran swiftly towards the stairs, hoping to catch sight of either of the remaining men. Movement from outside drew his gaze, and the blast from a shotgun had him scrambling for cover. A tall man, nothing more than a vague shadow in the firelight, kept on shooting through the back kitchen window.

Vin waited patiently, biding his time and ignoring the heat in the kitchen. The moment the man outside paused to reload, Vin was on his feet and running for the door. As he burst through into the cool night air, the second man opened fire but Tanner was already on his knees and firing steadily. The second man went down with a scream as Vin's shot tore through his leg. The first man, struggling to complete his reload, saw Vin draw aim and could only vainly lift his shotgun in defense as Vin shot him in the chest.

The wounded man tried to raise his gun, but Vin kicked it beyond his reach. "Stay put."

The would-be arsonist watched silently as Tanner grabbed a hosepipe and quickly fastened it to a tap. Spinning the tap open, Vin turned the water on the fire raging inside the kitchen, hoping to save something of the Larabee home.

The sound of someone cocking a gun drew Vin's gaze around. The hose pipe continued to spew a stream of water into the heart of the fire, as Tanner stared at Cletus Fowler. The fancy business man looked quite at home amidst the destruction, like a master surveying his kingdom.

"You shoulda kept drifting, boy." Fowler smirked as he prepared to squeeze the trigger and got a face full of water instead. Spluttering madly, he felt Tanner plough into him and desperately fired his gun. The men fell to the ground, Fowler's gun discharging harmlessly into the air. The hose fell beside them and soon turned the dusty ground into mud.

Fowler was not a small man, far from it. He considered himself a bit of a brawler and had enjoyed putting a few men in hospital but he was unprepared to face the fury unleashed by Tanner. Far stronger than he seemed, Vin pummelled the older man mercilessly until Fowler stopped trying to fight him and instead tried to escape the punishment.

A blow like a jackhammer knocked Cletus senseless and before he could regain his balance, Tanner had dragged him over to his incompetent hireling and had tied them together. Without a backward glance Vin turned back to fighting the fire, leaving a mud-encrusted Fowler tied up with washing line.

As soon as the fire in the kitchen was out, Vin opened the cellar door and quickly had four keen fire fighters and one irate mother to assist him. Little Sarah stood guard over Fowler and his goon with a gun she surely couldn't fire, but neither man was prepared to risk it. Mike and Gabe ran hoses to the other side of the house, while Mariah and JD wet the roof with another, trying to save their home.

Somewhat belatedly, the Larabee's neighbours arrived to help, followed closely by a firetruck and the fire didn't stand much of a chance after that. By the time Sheriff Briggs arrived, he found a triumphant Larabee clan cheering their success in having saved their now definitely soggy home. Statements were taken, suspects miranded and bodies collected. Firemen and neighbours were thanked, and all too soon the Larabees and Vin found themselves alone once again.

The sun was only beginning to crest the horizon but the dawn light still revealed a distressing scene of damage. Staring at the scarred house, Vin felt a small hand creep into his large one and obeyed the silent request by picking up JD and holding the small boy close. Silently they all stared at their home, the children drawing near to the adults.

Vin suddenly found himself in a fierce embrace and heard Mariah whisper, "Thank you." The moment was broken as she pulled back from him and said softly, "Lets get you kids cleaned up."

Gently herding her reluctant children towards the tap, Mariah cast a single glance behind her before turning her full attention to the task ahead.

Realising that he was trembling, Vin took a deep breath and glanced around the immediate area. Only the house showed evidence of the night's events, a stark reminder at how easily everything could change. But life continued, kept on moving despite personal tragedy or near-averted disaster and cows still needed to be milked, horses fed and chores done.

Life continued its relentless course regardless of them or their concerns and he figured it was nature's way of ensuring that a body didn't just collapse from the raging torrent of emotion inside. The morning that was dawning around them was magnificent and filled the yard with a quiet peace.

They were safe. He had not lost everything. And rather than face the tumult of confusion, now that he realised just how much he loved his home and how close he had been to losing it, Vin Tanner strode towards the barn and the waiting animals.

It was with a heavy heart that he noticed the spectre still lingering over the burnt ranch house.

It was nearly noon before Chris and Buck began to approach the ranch. The trip had been successful and they had left Ezra behind to negotiate with the Government Representative. Buck had managed to convince Chris that he deserved to drive Larabee's truck after putting up with Ezra's chatter on the journey there. Feeling benevolent, Chris had relented and Buck was thoroughly enjoying the experience of driving a truck that did not threaten to break down at the slightest provocation.

Chris was the first to notice the damage to the house and his urgent cry had Buck flooring the accelerator so that they raced down the road. Taking the driveway at breakneck speed, the truck hurtled up the drive and before it had come to a stop, Chris was out, running towards the ranch.

The ground storey of the house looked dreadful. The porch was just about destroyed, and large columns of black streaked up onto the second floor. Fear froze him to the spot and all Chris could hear was the pounding of his own heart.

'No, no, no. Not this. Anything but this.'

Desperately he searched for signs of life, anything to indicate that all was not lost – that his family, his life was still whole.

Buck's cry of, "Mariah!" broke the stunned silence inside him and Chris ran towards the answering call of "Chris?" As he rounded the house, a pack of kids rushed to meet him.

"PA!"

A babble of noise and arms wrapped around Chris and as he silently counted heads his gaze was drawn to his wife who waited impatiently for her turn. Their embrace was close and desperate and Chris felt that if he let her go, he may somehow never get her back.

"What happened?" he asked, still keeping one arm around his wife, the other holding Sarah. Buck, who had all three boys wrapped around him, looked up at Mariah's answer, his face dark.

"It was Fowler. He tried to burn us out and …"

"There men with guns, Daddy, but Vin got 'em," Sarah's soft words in his ear made him hold her tighter.

"Unca Vin socked the Flower man in the face – lots!" JD's jubilant cry drew their attention to 'Unca' Vin's absence and Chris looked around the yard, searching for his friend.

He was standing near the barn, a closed expression on his face. Covered in mud and soot, he had the stance of a weary but victorious warrior, so much more than a simple drifter. Buck broke from the group first and he half-ran towards Tanner and pulled him into a rough hug. The embrace was not returned, but only because Vin's hand were full with wriggling puppy.

"Little Buck!" JD shrieked with joy and ran towards his 'Uncles', laughing all the way. Chris saw the awkward moment between the two men change as the boy reached them and as they were enveloped by JD's boundless affection, tension became understanding and acceptance.

Hugging his wife again, Chris said, "I'm glad you're ok."

"If Vin hadn't been here…"

Chris shook his head, not wanting to think about that possibility. "He was and you are all safe. That is all that matters."

Mariah nodded, and smiled at Buck who was exclaiming in wonder as JD rattled off his account of the night's events.

She looked up at their fire-ravaged home and sighed, "I know it's only a house but still…"

"Yeah," Chris agreed but couldn't help think that without his family, the house, whether standing or not, would be meaningless.

Fear stabbed at his heart with that thought and desperate for reassurance, Chris pulled Mariah to him and kissed her soundly.

The sun was setting in a blaze of colour, painting the entire countryside red. Vin was sitting in the loft of the barn, looking out over the Larabee Ranch and rather than the bright red light reminding him of blood or worse, he felt uplifted by the warm, rich colour. It was too easy to see the world in black and white and a little colour, a little hope was always welcome.

The Larabees were all outside, the noise of children releasing pent up emotion echoing across the yard. Their young voices, raised in delight, served as a cold reminder at how easily they could have been silenced. It had been too close, far too close for comfort.

A flicker of movement drew Tanner's attention and he turned to see the black spectre settle down beside him on the roof. It seemed paler, greyer than before, but no less distinct. It also seemed to have lost none of its coldness and Vin felt a shiver run up his spine in response.

"Still around?"

_Yes._

From his high vantage point, Vin could see Buck's pickup approaching in the distance, a plume of dust rising like smoke behind him, although, knowing Buck's pickup, it could be actual smoke. Wilmington was returning with supplies for Mariah's makeshift kitchen and camp site. Deciding not to risk the interior structure until a surveyor assessed the structural integrity; the Larabees would be camping outside.

Feeling a little detached, as if the day's events had overwhelmed his limited ability to process emotion, Vin voiced the thought that had been bothering him for the last hour.

"This isn't over, is it?"

_No. Still here._

Sighing, and staring at the Ranch-house, Tanner felt entirely inadequate for the task ahead. "You've changed though."

The spectre nodded, its regard turned to Tanner. _You stopped the first. There is another. _

"Who?"

_You'll know her when she comes._

And with that the spectre faded away. Vin stared out at the ranch, no longer comforted by the red sun light. The sun had disappeared beneath the horizon, and the air was becoming colder and colder. Unsettled, Tanner stood up and made a silent promise to himself.

_Things would be different - this time. _

The end.

_Who can say where the road goes,  
Where the day flows?  
And who can say why your heart cries,  
When your love dies?  
Who can say when the roads meet,  
That love might be, In your heart.  
And who can say when the day sleeps,  
If the night keeps all your heart?  
And who can say where the road goes,  
Where the day flows?  
Only time...  
_

_By Enya._


End file.
